Give Me Your Heart, Lover Boy
by howlsatthemoon
Summary: I know that goodbye means nothing at all. / The tale of Scorpius Malfoy and Rosie Weasley. For Kimani, aka paperdisasters.


_Disclaimer: I don't own anything._

I seriously suggest putting She Will Be Loved on repeat while reading this. It came on when I put my iTouch on shuffle while reading this, and it did wonders for me.

For Kim, aka VintageConspiracy, because she's an awesome writer and deserves it wholly. (:

-;-

"I know where you hide,  
alone in your car;  
know all of the things that make you who you are;  
I know that goodbye means nothing at all,  
comes back and makes me catch her every time she falls."  
(Maroon 5.)

_give me your heart, lover boy_

Infuriating is the _perfect_ way to describe that damned Scorpius Malfoy.

Arrogant, with his dirty blond hair and perfectly shiny gray eyes; his wiry tallness and his stupid pure blood. Damn him. Damn him to heck! I could live a long, happy life without that stupid boy, staring at me all day long, giving me those puppy dog eyes and pouting at me.

Now, you must be wondering how on Earth I could hate somebody who apparently _loves_ me so bloody much. "_Oh, Rose Weasley, that heartless girl_," I hear them whisper in the halls, "_She's so cruel to poor ole Scorpius, the bloke only asks for a single date_." Of course, I, when I'm clearly the victim here, am put on the guillotine to take the blame. This could only happen to me, of all people, because obviously someone up in the heavens decided to stamp _scapegoat_ on my bottom and ruin my life.

Well, I'm here to set the story straight, my dear readers. I am here to clear my track record, to explain to everyone that it's _Malfoy_ who should be shunned forever. And so let me begin at the point in which my epic tale of disgrace and indignity started.

—

_first year_

So, apparently, nobody in my family told me that I was a short little girl until I came to Hogwarts. There, I realize that I was practically a midget compared to the standards the other first years had come to.

"Albus? Albus, where are you?" I cry through the mist surrounding the crowded pathway. Somewhere in the distance I hear a gruff, gravelly voice calling for first years. "Wait, wait for me!" I shout, trying to push past the looming giants that bumped into me, nearly knocking me over.

I elbow something squishy and it shoves at me, hard. I fall onto my knees and tears fill my eyes. This isn't exactly how I planned my maiden voyage into Hogwarts, you see. "Oy, stupid little first year," a mean voice jeered at me, glaring down. The boy was humongous, like a seventh year, with a chubby face and muscles. "Watch it."

"I'm not stupid," I spit back at him indignantly, because I was pretty stupid back then, I admit, and a little cocky. "_You're_ the stupid one." Something in the boy's eyes flashes as he inches towards me, leering at me, his huge hands balling into even bigger fists. I back away, swallowing dryly, closing my eyes and cursing under my breath, saying all the words James, my cousin, had taught me. "G—Go away," I say, my strong voice suddenly wavering and weak. It's barely heard through the booming noise of the crowds, suffocating me as the boy seems to get closer and closer. _Farewell, cruel world_, I say in my head. Hugo always said I was a drama queen. _It wasn't all that great down here anyway._

Suddenly, the seventh year corners me against a big carriage meant for the bigger kids, and I take in a deep breath, convinced it was going to be my last. "You're gonna regret that smart mouth of yours, little kid," the boy says menacingly against my ear.

And then a voice, high-pitched but determined, rings through the deafening yells of other kids. "Hey. Get away from her," the little voice demands, and the seventh year turns to look at his new victim. It's a skinny kid, but tall, with short blond hair, almost like a buzz cut. His arms are crossed and his eyebrows furrowed, but his lips are curved into a sly, cunning little smirk. "Bully," he hisses, fingering a wand in his small hand.

"And who're you s'posed to be?" the seventh year shoots back, one arm still pinning me against the carriage. I bite down hard on one of his fingers, trying to wrestle away. "What the hell?" he shrieks, pulling away and holding his injured hand to his chest. "Stupid kid! I'm gonna mess up your pretty little face and —"

"Better not do that," the boy, who looks about my age, interrupts confidently.

"Look, kid, who the hell do you think you are?" the seventh year, who I now decide to call Cockroach Face, asks again, cradling the hand that I bit. I spit onto the ground, getting the taste of roach out of my mouth, and keep silent.

The boy my age smoothes a hand through his hair, yawning. "I'm Scorpius _Malfoy_," he says in a suave, sophisticated voice, sounding years older. "Duh." The name sounds so familiar, like I've heard it a million times before, but I can't recall where. Who cares? This _Malfoy_ boy is my hero.

Instantly, Cockroach Face freezes up, turning bright red. "Oh, shit," he mutters under his breath. "S - So sorry, Mr. Malfoy, s - sir," he splutters nervously, "I — I didn't know, please, I — I — Er —"

"Leave. Now," Scorpius orders, and Cockroach Face runs off, flailing his arms like an idiot. "Sorry 'bout that," Scorpius then says, turning towards me. "He's a real creep, isn't he? Anyways, I'm Scorpius. You are?"

I grin at him, fingering a lock of my curly red hair. "I'm Rose," I tell him, my cheeks turning warm all of a sudden.

"That's a nice name," Scorpius replies. He opens his mouth to say something else, but I feel a strong hand on my shoulder.

I turn around to wack whoever startled me, and then relax when I see it's only James. "Ro, there you are," he sighs, relieved. "We've been looking all over for you, you never came to the boat for first years. C'mon, then, I've got to get you Hagrid, he's about to leave wi — Who's this?" James stops suddenly, glaring at Scorpius, who's turned pale behind me. "Why're you talking to him?" James asks in a low voice, his brown eyes turning dark. "Come on, Rose, you don't want to be friends with him."

"What're you talking about, James?" I ask later when Scorpius is left behind, out of earshot. "What's wrong with Scorpius?"

"He's not one of us," James explains vaguely, pushing me onto a small, rickety boat. I spot Albus at the front, talking to some other first years. "His family's bad blood. Promise me you won't befriend him, Rose."

I'm about to respond but the boat takes off unexpectedly, gliding across the smooth, black water of a seemingly endless lake. In front of me, I see a huge castle, infinite and gorgeous, and forget all about James and Scorpius.

An hour later, I'm getting restless and fidgety waiting in line, not to mention_ hungry_. Albus seems miles ahead of me in line, with only about fifteen people to spare before it's his turn to be sorted. I don't know anyone in line except for some blabbermouth named Ocotillo Wood, who keeps babbling on and on about his older brother Klaus and how good his family is at Quidditch, which, honestly, I don't give an owl dropping about. Professor McGonagall, who looks awfully tiny in her scarlet robes, sitting in a large throne-like chair, calls out yet another name, her voice clear and loud.

"Malfoy, Scorpius," she says, raising an eyebrow, and I look up immediately, seeing the blond boy again. I smile at him, wondering if he sees me, if he's even looking for me. He smirks at everybody already sitting at their house tables, and plops onto the wooden stool, closing his eyes and looking like he's thinking very hard when the Sorting Hat is placed upon his head.

It takes probably only a minute or two, but to the whole entire Great Hall it's like an eternity. Finally, the navy blue hat opens its wide cloth mouth and announces, "SLYTHERIN!"

My heart drops to the very bottom of my stomach as I look away, trying not to meet anyone's eyes this time, wondering why I'm so disappointed.

—

_second year_

"Merry Christmas, Rosie," a low, rumbling voice murmurs against my ear, instantly making my cheeks match my flaming hair. I run a hand through it, quickly trying to get the tangles out, and turn around, knowing I'll be greeted with a certain blond pain the neck.

"Oh, it's you," I sigh, trying to make myself sound disappointed and bored, like I was hoping it'd be somebody else. (_As if there was anybody else_.)

He smirks that stupid little smirk, and shrugs, wrapping a quick arm around my waist. I push him away gently, rolling my eyes, trying to pin more tinsel to pinecones for centerpieces, like I'd promised Professor Longbottom I would do for the Christmas feast. "Who else could it possibly be?" he asks, shrugging his shoulders and sitting cross-legged on the floor. He's wearing Muggle clothes, nice jeans and a striped sweater. I feel awfully underdressed in my pajama bottoms and t-shirt, which I dared to wear outside the Gryffindor Common Room because of the fact that nearly everyone had gone home for the Holidays. Unfortunately, Mum and Dad and Hugo—along with Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny and Lily , and Grandma and Grandpa Weasley—had decided they'd take a trip to Romania to check on Uncle Charlie, ultimately leaving me and my cousins at school during Christmastime.

"You know, my lover," I joke offhandedly, groaning and throwing yet another ruined pinecone into the wastebasket I had found.

"I'm here, aren't I?" he responds, grinning at me, and I roll my eyes, sticking my tongue out at me. "Come on, Rosie, you know you love me, don't you? I bet you fantasize about me, huh, Rosie? You probably dream of me every night. Prob'ly think of me as your soul mate. Admit it."

Immediately, I feel my temper flame up. Unfortunately, I've taken too much than I'd like of my Dad's bad habits and looks. "You're such a prat, Malfoy, you know that?" I explode, flinging my hands up, making dozens of fly up and slam into the ground, breaking into pieces as my magic gets to be too much for me. "Just _go away, _all right?"

Scorpius stands up, his eyebrows furrowing and his hand going to his short blond hair, ruffling it. He's paler than usual and I feel absolutely horrible for no good reason. "Okay," he says, his voice losing its arrogance and becoming shaky, unsure. "I'm going." He turns around in the direction of the door, his neck turning to look at me again.

My eyes close and I put my head in my hands, guilt swallowing me whole. I look away, staring at the destroyed pinecones, my mouth dry.

All of a sudden, I feel somebody sit beside me, someone's gaze on my body. I open my eyes and look up to see Scorpius looking at me, his grey eyes dark, his mouth turned down at the corners. His eyes come away from my locked stare and he looks up. "Mistletoe," he mumbles shyly, and I look up, too, to find the mistletoe dangling by a thread on the ceiling, forgotten. He looks at me, his jaw clenched, and I feel my whole body flame up, burning.

And then, I lean in toward him and press my lips against his softly. He freezes up as soon as we make contact, and then relaxes into the kiss, his fingers cupping my cheek. I kiss him harder, needily, and he smiles against my lips, my arms around his neck.

"I'm sorry I'm such a prat, love," he whispers, hot breath against the shell of my ear, and then I feel no warmth at all, everything around me icy cold. I open my eyes and stare into emptiness.

He's gone.

—

_third year_

I walk through the long hallway and into the courtyard, clutching my textbooks, which surely weigh millions and trillions of pounds, where I find Lily waiting for me, smiling brightly. "Rosie!" she shrieks, her voice high and mighty, and hugs me tightly, making me scatter everything in my arms all over the brick floor. "Damn it," she swears proudly, and I laugh, wondering if her parents knew how bad of an influence her older brother really was. "So sorry, Rosie, I'm _such_ a klutz. Teddy's always got to help me clean stuff up. It's so horrible that he decides to graduate, like, years after I'm a first year, I mean, he doesn't get the _real_ Hogwarts experience without me there, don't you think?" She laughs, hugging me tighter to her, and I hug her back. Lily's like my little sister, she is.

After we get over our hugging fest, I kneel down to pick up my textbooks, lumped all over the floor, grass poking up through the cracked bricks and tiles. I place a tanned hand on Hogwarts, A History: Revised Edition when a pale, larger hand crawls on top of it.

I pull my hand back right away and run it through my long red hair, a shade darker than Lily's. I blush pink and stare at the ground, already knowing who it was. "Malfoy," I say through gritted teeth, remembering everything we've been through.

"Nice to see you again, Rosie," his familiar voice slices through the air, and I don't need to look up and meet his gaze to know that his signature smirk is already painted onto his face. "Who's this?"

"I'm Lily," Lily says, sounding like she's shouting when she's really not. "I'm Rosie's best cousin. Who are _you _supposed to be?"

Finally, I earn the courage to meet Scorpius' eyes, gulping when I see the dark gray. His hair is still short, barely reaching his ears, but his cheekbones are more prominent. He's taller and has more muscle, but he's still got that wiry build he's had since I first _really_ met him my first year. "This is Scorpius Malfoy," I tell Lily, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Um, Lils, why don't you go get James for me? I need to ask to borrow his owl to send something to Mum and Dad."

Lily pouts and crosses her arms for a second, then runs off, her bright green robes billowing behind her, red hair following. I watch her as she enters the hallway, and then bend down again to pick up my books, placing it on the bench next to me and then sitting down, my legs crossed.

"Long time, no see," Scorpius says randomly, his voice blending in with the wind. He smiles at me, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Did you get your Hogsmeade form signed? First visit is this weekend, tomorrow."

"'Course I got it signed," I mumble shyly, the very tips of my ears feeling like they're on fire, the way they always get when I'm nervous. "Why wouldn't I?" I ignore the way he's blatantly staring at me, and instead, glance out into the distance. It's a gorgeous day, the sun shining and the giant squid wallowing around the Lake, its newborn baby swimming behind it.

Scorpius shrugs, sitting next to me on the bench, too close for my pounding heart. "How 'bout a date, then?" he asks, and I'm so out of it that I don't even realize what in the world he's just said.

"Pardon?" I reply politely, still not meeting his grey eyes.

"You, me, date," Scorpius says again, making hand motions to go along with it. This time, I get the picture, literally, and freeze up, jumping to my feet and running both hands through my hair, blushing bright red. "Sorry, did I scare you or something?" Scorpius asks sardonically, and I know he's tired of my crap.

"You've got to be kidding me," I say, and all of a sudden my voice is too loud, my face too hot, the wind too harsh against me. "Me? Go on a date? With _you_?" I realize that I'm almost shouting, and people are turning around to look at me. Scorpius flushes but doesn't say anything. "In your dreams," I spit out, feeling like an ass, and grab my books, leaving Scorpius sitting on the bench, looking blankly at the ground.

—

_fourth year_

"Who the _hell _is he supposed to be?" Scorpius' voice is harsh against my ear, his hands tight around my wrists. I try to struggle but he only grabs onto me tighter. I look up at him and his grey eyes are flashing, dark, dangerous. I swallow dryly.

"Look, he's nobody," I mumble back, pulling away from him. Finally, he lets go of me, and I back away as far as I can, shelves pushing into my back. He's dragged me into a broom closet, of all places, like we're lovers or something. "Why do you care, anyway?"

He ignores my question, and turns around instead, punching the wall. It makes a loud sound he curses under his breath, clutching his knuckles, forehead against the wall. "If he's nobody, then why are you snogging him like there's no tomorrow, huh?" Scorpius responds, gasping in pain, turning around to glare at me angrily.

Realization flows into me and my mind clears up. Oh, God, he's _jealous_. I want to laugh, loudly and meanly, at his stupidity. Who even gets jealous these days? "You have no right to even _care_, Malfoy!" I shout back at him, and then look at the door. "_Muffliato_. Anyway, it's not like we were ever even together in the first place, so there's no reason you ought to even _give_ a shit, so why don't you just walk away, and we'll pretend this never even happened, capiche?"

Scorpius acts like my words went right through his ears, as per usual. "I've got _every _right to care, Rosie," he murmurs darkly, rubbing the back of his neck hard and staring at me. "What's his name?" he growls. I'm silent. He inches toward me menacingly, but I know he'd never dare lay a hand on me that way. "Tell me his name, Rosie, his _name_!"

"Xavier," I whisper back. "Xavier Ackerley."

"I hate him," Scorpius declares immediately, his face as white as a sheet, his stare burning into my skin.

"You don't _know_ him," I shoot back, my voice faltering as one of my fingers latches onto a lock of red hair, pulling at it nonchalantly. "You're not supposed to _care_!" I scream at him. "You're supposed to _get over me_ and move on! Just do it! Get over me! When will you realize that _I will never feel the way you do?_ Ever!" I get that horrible feeling again when I know I've said something I shouldn't have. I look up to see Scorpius.

His eyes are wide, his mouth open. One of his hands is clutching his wand, which is shooting sparks onto the floor, and the other is tousling his hair. He looks like he's been punched in the gut. Repeatedly. My stomach does flip flops, and I want to barf. "You don't get it, do you?" he says quietly, avoiding my eyes. I keep my silence, like I always do. "I've loved you so much, Rose, and you just never, ever get it. I can't get over you because I _love_ you, goddammit. You're unforgettable, and you just don't realize it." He stops, breathing in deeply, and looks at me. His fingers reach out and stroke the outline of my jaw, and for once, I don't back away instantly at his touch. "God, Rosie, I love you."

I close my eyes, my heart fluttering. "I'm with Xavier," I manage to choke out. His touch leaves a trail of fire on my cheek.

"But you're supposed to be _mine_," Scorpius responds, his voice only slightly louder than a whisper.

I pull away right then and slap him, quick and painfully. His hands ghost upon the sting I know I left, wincing, and I turn towards the door, feeling so goddamn lost and confused. "I'm _nobody's_," I tell him coldly, and open the door, getting out with the least bit of dignity, and slam it behind me.

Later, at dinner, after I've broken it off with Xavier, I try to ignore the longing looks stupid old Malfoy keeps shooting at me through a sea of house tables.

—

_fifth year_

"I love him, Rosie," Lily sobs in my arms, my shoulder already turning damp with her tears. "God, he's being such an _ass_ right now. How dare he? Run off to stupid old _America_. What's there? Oh, I'll tell you what's _not _there. _Me_. He's being so _stupid_, Rosie." Lily shudders again, crying loudly, and I stroke her long red hair, glaring at the people who pass by, staring at us.

"Shh, shh, honey," I murmur soothingly. "You know what, Lily? I know for a fact that Teddy loves you. I've heard him talk about you. He acts like you put the stars in the night sky."

She looks up at me, smiling, but her bright green eyes are still dull, losing a bit of their spark every day she knows that Teddy is gone, for who knows how long? "Why do people fall in love every single day," she whispers, "if it hurts so much to lose it?"

I look at her, wondering when on Earth my little cousin had gotten so grown up. "No idea, Lils," I mumble back.

Lily sighs, sitting up. "I've got to head to Transfiguration now, Ro," she explains, grabbing a textbook and combing her fingers through her hair. "See you."

I watch her go, crossing my arms over my chest and looking at the gray clouds looming over the Lake. All of a sudden, a smooth voice rings through my ears. "She's right, you know," Scorpius says, sitting beside me. How he always ends up next to me at the worst times, I haven't got any idea. "It makes no sense."

Because I'm stupid, I carry on the conversation. "What?" I ask quietly, still staring over at the Lake.

"Why people fall in love," he replies simply. "It really does hurt like hell when someone breaks your heart."

I look over at him and the circles beneath his eyes, the hollows in his cheeks. He doesn't look arrogant anymore, or as confident as before. He only looks lost, betrayed. Tired. "And you're supposed to know how that feels?" I whisper, swallowing once again.

"Too, too well," he mutters back, running a hand through his hair. It's short, yet longer than before, a few stray strands falling into his grey eyes, matching the clouds in the distance.

I can't resist the gravity pushing me towards him. I lean in until we're inches apart, and his pale face is so close to mine that only a single nudge in the right direction will make our lips connect. His face is expressionless, but his eyes are alive, bright and sparkling. "You really want to do this? You choose _now _to fall for me, after all these years?" he asks playfully.

"Shut it, Malfoy," I say like I've said a million times, and kiss him softly, and then harder, pressing my whole self against him like it means the world to me. And it really, really does.

Every single time I push myself harder and harder against him, I feel like there are fireworks exploding in the cloudy sky.

—

_sixth year_

We're in that same old broom closet where we had that fight back in fourth year. It feels like that had happened a million years ago, and this time, we're in here for a _completely _different reason. If my fourteen-year-old self knew what I was doing now… God, she'd hate me forever.

Scorpius, however, obviously doesn't, judging by the way he's smiling like he's a six-year-old who's been given a bag of candy that weighs about thirty tons. His hands glide all over my body, his tongue pushing through my lips, sucking on my bottom lip lazily. I moan into the kiss and he smirks, pulling away and placing his forehead against mine.

"God, I love you, Rosie Weasley," he laughs, pressing his body flush against mine. I smile with him, running my hands all over his blond head of hair, liking the look of my red locks intertwined with his gold ones.

"'Course you do," I mutter, connecting our lips again, and then pulling away, making him growl. Whoa. Total and absolute hotness, right there, burning hotter than the _sun_, good ole Scorpius is. "Who doesn't?"

He laughs loudly again, kissing me with an open mouth. Why on Earth did I wait six years to decide to make out with Scorpius Malfoy? He's like… the _tongue king_. Let me tell you, this boy works _wonders_. "Ah, cocky little thing, are you?" he murmurs against my cheek, pressing wet kisses along my jaw. I let out a long, low moan, knowing it'll make his own jaw clench and his hands form fists.

I feel little pinches on my hips and I look down to see that he's clutching my robes, bunching up the fabric. "God, Rosie, you have got _no_ _idea_ what you do to me," he grumbles, kissing my mouth repeatedly, his fingers combing through my hair. "How much I _think _about you," he kisses me again, "how many times I wish you were with me during the course of a single day." He kisses my forehead, his fingers wandering innocently up the hem of my uniform's shirt and smoothing over the skin on my belly. "I can barely stand an hour without you."

"That's the Rose Weasley charm," I tease, kissing him gently. His lips are soft. They taste like toffee and caramel, my two new favorite types of sweets.

Scorpius pulls away from my eager, desperate kisses, and looks at me, a serious glint in his eyes. "I love you, Rosie," he declares loudly, and my whole throat goes dry, my eyelids closing over my eyes.

"Don't say that, Scor," I whisper sadly.

His eyes get all hard and determined. My heart's dropping to my stomach again. "Why shouldn't I?" he demands, braiding our fingers so that they're locked together in a lover's knot. "It's the truth."

"You don't know that."

"Dammit, Rosie, I've known it for six years now," he tells me, and I hate how genuine and sincere his voice is right now. "I've known it since the second I first laid my eyes on you."

"You sound like a Muggle romance movie," I say to him harshly, avoiding his stare.

"When are we going to tell people about… _us_?" he asks me, ignoring my statement. "Hmm? I'm seriously getting _sick_ of broom closets and empty classrooms."

I swallow. "Don't do this now, Malfoy," I beg.

He backs away from me, punching a fist into the wall once again, swearing repeatedly. "Why not? You never, ever talk about it. What? Am I just going to be in the shadows for the rest of your life? Am I going to sleep with you on your wedding night? Are you _never_ going to be _really, truly_ mine?" His eyes are flaming angry and I want the world to swallow me into the ground right there.

"Please, Scorpius, I'm not ready," I plead with him, trying to grab his hand.

He shakes his head, cursing. "Until you're ready, then," he says quietly, "we're through."

And then he opens the door, stomps out, and slams it behind him so hard that every broom in the tiny little closet falls over, leaving me shaking and alone.

—

_seventh year_

I step into the Great Hall, feeling new and refreshed and _determined_. Like I've got a purpose. Like I'm about to fulfill what I was put on this Earth for.

I scan the tables, looking for the one on the far left, with a large green banger hanging directly over it. Ignoring the calls of my friends at the Gryffindor table on the opposite side of the enormous room, I begin to march directly over to the Slytherin House table.

I pay no heed to the jeers and catcalls of some of the more _immature_ members of a really not that bad house, but instead lock my eyes on a certain blond seventh-year, sitting alone on the edge of a bench, not paying attention to his fellow companions' stares and nudges.

As soon as I was directly behind him, I shoo away the people sitting next to him, and then open my mouth. "Hey, Scorpius," I greet loudly, and then plop onto the bench beside him.

His eyes are wide and surprised, much different from the blank and emotionless stares he's been giving me for weeks now. "Rosie," he murmurs suspiciously, getting over his shock at me actually communicating with him in public without cuss words, and narrowing his eyes, crossing his arms. "What's up?"

"I was thinking," I begin dramatically. "You see, it's kind of been like Hell for about half a year now. Those words you said back in _our_ broom closet—what were they again?" I tap my chin, pretending to think hard. "Oh yeah. Something like, 'Until I'm ready, we're through,' was it, Scor? Oh well, doesn't matter that much, anyway. But, they've sort of been echoing through my head for, like, _forever_. And then, today, I woke up, and I decided—I'm not going to be a total arse and just forget about everything, because really, that's quite impossible. And so, I know now, Scor—I'm ready."

He runs a hand through his hair and swallowed, speechless.

Taking that as a good reaction, I stand up, placing my feet shakily on top of the bench. "Can I have your attention, everyone?" I yell as loud as I can, and instantly, the Hall became quiet. Every eye is on me; their gazes are like lasers, burning me. "I'd just like to tell you _all_ that I'm in love with Scorpius Malfoy, and I _have been _for about seven years, now." And then, because this is Rosie-hyped-up-on-adrenaline, I hop back down onto the floor, place my hands on Scorpius' face, and kiss him, long and hard.

When I pull away, the whole entire Hall bursts into applause. Like the ditz I am, I blush bright red and laugh, staring at the floor.

"You know, this moment," Scorpius says, grinning, his forehead against mine, "I always thought it would feel really, really good. But it doesn't."

I frown, starting to pull away from his tight hold on me, but he pulls me back to him, pressing our bodies together.

"It's better than good. It's like everything's finally coming together," he explains, and I smile silently, pressing our lips together.

—

Okay, fine, maybe having a certain Malfoy boy in love with me isn't _so_ bad.

_fin._

-;-

I'm not sure if I should or shouldn't be, but I'm super proud of this. (:


End file.
